The Gentle and The Telmarine
by lilyotvalley
Summary: Days after Lucy, Edmund and Eustace return from the Dawn Treader, Susan has had enough of the stories of days gone by. She wants to live her life as a young woman, not be constantly reminded of what she's lost. Who she's lost. But when she suddenly finds herself in the midst of a Narnian storm, never known possibilities arise - and escalate.
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to the first chapter of The Gentle and The Telmarine_

* * *

 _Rating: Mature._

 _Warnings: Lots and lots of cliché situations, lots of sexual tension, and lots of lemon. You have been warned, people._

 _These books have been my childhood, and now that I am older, I want to read more of them - in different ways. So one day this idea popped into my head, and I thought - why not? This will be the first fanfiction I publish on this website, and I am looking forward to you reactions and inputs! So please, feel free to leave a Review, and Follow or Favourite the story, it will be much appreciated :) And please bear in mind, that this is solely for fun; sometimes one just needs a little diversion from all the seriousness of real life._

 _Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any form of rights to The Chronicles of Narnia - they have been written forty years before I was born, and Mr. Clive Staples hasn't thought to leave me any rights in his will. Shame. However this particular storyline is MINE, and while getting inspired is wonderful and a compliment, stealing is simply not classy. And what is life without class?_

 _Lots of Love,_

 _Lily_

* * *

 _1\. Prologue/Chapter 1_

„I simply cannot believe you!"

Lucy Pevensie's yelling voice was met with three cringing boys and a very unnerved sister.

„Please, Lucy, would you calm down? The neighbours will think that something is wrong." Susan Pevensie straightened her fashionable blue dress, as she reached behind her aggravated sister for her hat. "And don't stand so defensively, we are not in a boxing ring."

Lucy seemed to burst with frustration as she snapped the hat out of Susan's grasp and threw it behind her, forcing their cousin Eustace to duck his head. "Don't change the subject, Susan! Tell me, how can you just forget about everything?"

Susan sighed as she looked to where her hat had found its demise. Her siblings and cousin had decided that they needed to meet at their family home in London, to discuss the weeks spent apart. Susan had just recently returned from America with their parents, and Peter was back from his tutoring with the Professor. But as soon as tea had been served and the parents dismissed, Lucy and Edmund had started to recount their most recent story from Narnia, about the Dawn Treader, and how Eustace had joined them through the painting...

"Lucy, we can't all live in the past. It isn't my life anymore."

"But why? One day we may be able to-"

"No." Without turning to face the others, Susan clenched her jaw. "You know we won't return. And I for one am tired of looking back. Don't you see? I'm tired. I can't keep living like this!" She faced her family once again, a weary look on her face. "We aren't children anymore Lucy! We have to move on and live our lives in this world, where we belong."

Lucy seemed to choke on air, as she attempted to prove her point. "But we aren't just children-"

Eustace, with his snotty tone of voice, which he didn't seem to have lost while breathing the Narnian air, interrupted her idly: "Well, I for one am very much a normal child, thank you."

Lucy shot him a glare before continuing. "We are the Kings and Queens of Old! We have lived there and we have ruled; they are our people! How can you pretend it never happened?"

"You say it yourself, Lu, the Kings and Queens _of Old_. Our time is up! We aren't going there anymore, our timeline works differently, everyone we knew is probably dead by now, not only Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers, but Reepicheep and Trumpkin and...and..."

Susan could see both her brothers aching to say something, but they didn't get the chance as Lucy's much softer voice announced: "I can't forget our life there."

Susan sighed. "Seemingly none of you can. But are you happy that way? You have stopped to live! We aren't warriors anymore, we aren't royals either. And I'm the only one who seems to have accepted that!" Something clenching deep within her chest belied her words, making it suddenly hard to breathe. Peter took a subtle step closer to her, and Susan couldn't face his knowing eyes. Peter had always known. He was her big brother after all, always trying to help and protect.

Lucy stomped her foot very uncharacteristically. "How can we not be what we need to, in order to be whole? How can we be expected to come and go, with no regards to our feelings and needs?"

Susan couldn't argue that point, and once she managed to calm herself, answered: "We don't seem to have a choice."

It was silent in the Pevensie's living room; only the clock could be heard ticking. Susan didn't look up to see her family's faces, for she knew what they thought. None of them was happy. None of them was themselves. They had thought it would be right, that it all would be good. But they had overestimated the closure from their last visit.

"I think we should all take a deep breath," Peter announced suddenly, and made his way over to the window. Susan had found it to be stuck at times, but Peter had no problems opening it.

A cold wind immediately blew into the room, making everyone shiver.

"I thought it was going to be a nice summer day," Eustace complained as he pulled his light jumper tighter around himself.

Susan furrowed her brows as the wind became stronger and stronger, actually making her stumble a few steps.

"What is going on?"

"Peter! Close the window!"

"Is that a storm?! A tornado in London?!"

A loud rumble was heard.

"Edmund get off of me!"

"I would, if I could, wouldn't I?!"

"By Aslan, I can't see!"

Susan closed her eyes against the breathtaking wind and tried to take a hold of the next best thing, but her body was thrown backwards and suddenly she felt like she was flying, thrown around by the airstream and then, eyes still closed against the harsh wind, she could suddenly hear raindrops falling on leaves. Hadn't it been sunny in London, just a few seconds ago?


	2. Chapter 2

_The Gentle and The Telmarine_

 _Chapter Two_

* * *

 _First of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback and all the Follows and Favourites; they truly motivate one like nothing else! Also, I am so very sorry for the long wait, but I hope this chapter makes up for it!_

 _You will notice that Reepicheep is in Narnia and not Aslan's Country in this piece of fiction. That is because I wanted as many known characters as possible around to prevent confusion (I also kind of adore that little fella)._

 _Without further ado, I ask you to let me know what you think, and hope you enjoy the second chapter to this story!_

 _Love,_

 _Lily_

* * *

2.

The great King Caspian X of Narnia was, in a rare moment of solitude, lounging on a leather chair in his tent. In his hand rested a goblet, filled with dark red liquid, the only pleasure he allowed himself these days.

They had been pestering him again, his so called advisors.

Recent disturbances, caused by bandits in the lesser guarded regions of the kingdoms, had been the reason for Caspian's trip to this place. And while he and his fellow leaders had been talking about how to resolve the issue, more than one of them had made subtle comments on his age and unmarried state. It was a well known fact, that a king was vulnerable as long as there weren't sons or daughters around to succeed him.

These little digs had presented his advisors finally with the opening they had been waiting for, after the last time Caspian had told them off. So they were urging him to get married, get himself an heir, and then, as if it were the obvious next step, get himself a mistress. As if they were trying to sweeten the prospect of marriage, trying to assure him.

Morons, every single one of them.

He understood the part about an heir, but the rest?

He took a long sip.

To be fair, he understood the rest too, for it was the norm in their day and age. Get a noble wife, get an heir – preferably more than one – retire with a mistress. But whenever he thought of one of the women they kept introducing to him at his side, said woman suddenly lacked blue eyes, and long, black hair. Her smile was never gentle enough, her demeanour too mellow, too accommodating. She knew how to ride, but not how to fight, and she usually gasped in fear, or shock, or amusement at the Narnians.

He did not need an oracle to decipher the underlying meaning.

Almost a decade had come and gone since the last time any of the Pevensies had visited him; even more than that since he had last seen _her_. And through all that time, he had not managed to leave her behind. He did not want to forget her, for he cherished the memory of Susan Pevensie, the Gentle Queen of Narnia, too much. He would never dare to let himself forget, or even consider giving his heart to another woman.

And that was what held him back. He could not marry a woman when his heart belonged to another. And he could also not bring himself to lose hope. Aslan help him, that tiny shrivel of hope was the only thing getting him through the day at times.

It was in a state of wistful melancholy, his valet Mika found him in, some hours later.

Mika was a tall man, tanned, with dark hair and soft eyes. One of the closest confidants Caspian had. The young man was followed by Aleko, a large and intimidating soldier, the head of his Telmarine forces.

"The hawk has reported back movement from near the sea, Your Majesty," Aleko announced, just as Caspian became aware of tumultuous voices from outside. "A small group of foreigners has managed to come close without our...uh..."

Caspian furrowed his brows at his man, as he got to his feet. "Without you noticing?"

They had been expecting some difficulties on their way back from these damned talks. Caspian knew from the years trying to regain and keep the peace in and around Narnia that peace talks rarely ended without differences. How his men failed to notice the approach of potentially hostile groups was beyond him, though.

"Do you know who they belong to?"

Aleko shook his head. "Not yet, Your Majesty. They don't seem to be soldiers, however."

To say Caspian was confused would be the least. He had sent a part of their congregation already ahead, just in case something like this would happen, but as usual, he himself had stayed behind with the most capable of his soldiers, to make sure all the advisors and noblemen and women accompanying him would be safe from harm, before crossing the closest borders. Who would come so close without their knowing, unarmed?

That was, when something of an inkling awakened the dormant hope in his chest. Could it be?

* * *

The London-sun seemed to be nowhere in sight, as the Pevensies and their cousin landed. Susan looked around to see Lucy, Peter, Edmund and Eustace just as inelegantly on their bottoms as she was. It wasn't a pretty sight; all of them were quickly soaked by the heavy rain, and only clad in their light summer clothes. Brushing away her long hair, she tried to see beyond the falling drops.

"Are we...are we..."

Surrounding them were woods, and to their right, Susan could make out the storming sea through the trees.

"Is this Narnia? Are we back?" Eustace asked in a hurry, scrambling to his feet.

Susan wasn't sure. It didn't _precisely_ look like Narnia. She knew every curve and every leaf, and these woods weren't the right shape.

"Not exactly," Peter affirmed her thoughts as he tried to shield his eyes. "This is Calormen."

Oh no.

The last time she had set foot to Calormen, Susan had almost been kidnapped by Rabadash, and as far as she knew from their last visit to Narnia, the tension between Calormen and the neighbouring countries had never quite disappeared, even though peace was reached.

"What?" Edmund looked around and let his shoulders sink. "You're right."

Peter turned to him with that authoritative look of his. "Of course I'm right."

Ignoring her brothers, Susan tried to gather her wits. Why were they here? What was the meaning of all this? They weren't supposed to return, none of them – well, maybe Eustace.

"We need to find out where exactly we are, and _when_ exactly we are. Maybe Caspian is still alive?"

An ice dagger full of suppressed pain bored itself into Susan's chest, rendering her breathless. No. It was one thing to never see him again, but another to know he was _dead_. That couldn't be right anyway. Edmund and Lucy had seen him just a couple of days ago. Maybe a few years had passed, but surely not enough to have him dying?

"I think first we need to find a place to wait out this rain," Lucy interrupted the boys and grabbed hold of Susan's stiff hand, to pull her deeper into the woods.

It wasn't very clever to just blindly run somewhere, but the rain wasn't getting any lighter and they couldn't very well remain where they were, waiting for Aslan knew what.

"I think there is a clearing!" Edmund had outsprinted both girls and Eustace, while Peter was building the end.

Susan couldn't see much, as she was concentrating on not tripping over roots on the ground, and was caught off guard, when she ran into a hard back. Edmund had stopped. Susan tried to see past him, but before she even made the conscious decision, loud voices erupted, and she could make out movement beyond the line of trees.

There were many colourful tents in front of them and trumpets resonating. If the familiar fanfares or tents weren't indication enough, the minotaur who blew the trumpet was: they had stumbled upon a Narnian camp. And seeing what a grand affair it was, it could only mean royalty.

Soldiers, humans and animals alike, emerged from everywhere, halting in their tracks upon seeing them. Those were well-known faces, yes.

Susan's eyes darted from one end of the camp to the other, until they stopped at the opening of one of the smaller tents, where an achingly familiar figure appeared to see what was going on.

Susan's heart stopped as her eyes connected with his.

Caspian.

He looked right back at her, an incredulous expression forming on his clear-cut face, probably mirroring hers.

He had aged a little, Susan determined; while his hair was still shoulder length, his face sported a distinct but short beard. His posture seemed that of a man, not a boy anymore, although he couldn't be more than thirty years old. Despite the obvious changes, he still looked as handsome as she remembered.

Lucy's outcry interrupted their stare, as it was followed by a sprint and the younger girl launching herself at the King, who clumsily tried to catch her.

Susan managed to breathe again.

Following her brothers and cousin on shaky legs, they approached the warm and dry tents, to the noise of excited cheering and greetings. Susan wasn't even aware of the many bows in her direction, or the happy smiles she failed to properly return.

"Come inside, quick, you must be freezing," she could hear Caspian urge as she came closer, noticing the lack of the Telmarine accent. His voice had gotten deeper and it sent a chill down her already shivering body.

Once inside the biggest tent, Caspian stopped to take a good look at them. "How...how is this possible? What are you doing here?"

Edmund, who was being handed a towel by a maid, replied with a happy laugh. "That would be our question to you! We were just at home, telling Su and Peter about the Dawn Treader and the Lords, when we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of this blasted rain!"

Reepicheep, who had excitedly greeted them outside, and advised the attendants to bring towels and make a bigger fire inside the tent, emerged between the Telmarine soldiers and jumped up on a table. "Does this mean you had just returned, Sire?"

Lucy nodded immediately. "How much time passed here?"

Caspian's eyes darted around the group until they landed on Susan, who unsuccessfully tried to preserve some modesty as well as heat by wrapping her arms around herself. The sheer material of her dress clung to her form in an unfortunately revealing manner, something she had not expected having to deal with, as she put it on in sunny 1940's London. The King, realizing this, abrasively grabbed the towel from one of the maids, who was apparently not moving fast enough, and draped it over Susan's shoulders, shielding her. Taken aback by his sudden closeness, Susan didn't even notice the eyes that were immediately averted. She could feel his big hands coming to rest on her upper arms, until she grabbed the towel herself, at which point he stepped back in a hurry, leaving her in a _different_ kind of breathlessness than she had endured before.

"Seven years."

At Caspian's announcement, Susan flinched. _Seven years_. That meant that it had been ten years since _she_ had been last in Narnia, which thus meant, that their kiss had been ten years ago for him too, while she had barely gotten over the semester.

"But that makes no sense," Eustace felt the need to point out. "Didn't you tell me that when you returned one year after your first time, 1300 years had passed in Narnia, then only three years, and now seven while we were back only for two days?"

He was right, it didn't make sense. It seemed like the timeline between the two worlds was very...random.

"Don't overanalyze it," Peter advised his cousin, before slapping Caspian on the shoulder. "Good to see you, old chap. Thought we were done for a while."  
Caspian nodded as suddenly the centaurs Glenstorm and his wife Windmane entered, followed by Trumpkin and other familiar faces.

The centaur quickly approached Peter and bowed respectfully. "King Peter, King Edmund", he turned slightly to the left, "Queen Susan, Queen Lucy. We are grateful to have you back."

Susan's chest ached at how Glenstorm addressed them. Peter nodded, just like he used to in the Golden Age, and Glenstorm rose from his position.

"This is our cousin Eustace Scrubb, but I assume, some of you have met him."

Reepicheep quickly pulled out his sword and bowed in between the greetings thrown his way by soldiers. "Master Scrubb."

Eustace, being a little out of his usual vigour, bowed his head in a humble way that surprised Susan.

It didn't take more than 10 minutes of excited talking by Lucy, Edmund and Reepicheep to update each other. Peter only smiled indulgently, while Susan still tried to get her bearings. Was it possible, that amidst all of her efforts to move on, she had lost her mind? That this was her brain's way of coping with the immense pain in her chest and the feeling of complete and utter loss, whenever she thought of Narnia? Whenever she thought of Caspian?

Watching him listen to Lucy's excitement, she was sure she couldn't have imagined him looking this attractive.

"Someone bring the trunk, they'll need their armour," Caspian interrupted the chatter and instantly some of the guards left the tent.

"The trunk?"

Caspian nodded at Lucy. "Old habits die hard. Even though you weren't set to return, I kept a trunk with all your belongings with me. This time there must be clothing in it too." His eyes weren't the only ones that wandered back to Susan's summer dress. He and Peter both made a small step closer to her, shielding her more than the towel could.

Susan blushed at this more than subtle action; but while she was thankful, her pride didn't let her play the damsel in distress and she lifted her chin, like the Queen she was.

And damn her, if she wasn't a true Queen.

Retelling herself that, she let Caspian lead her and her little sister to the smaller tent he had emerged from minutes earlier, obviously his own sleeping quarters.

"You can change your gowns in here, and I will have a second cot put in. I'm afraid we will have to spend the night, before we can catch up to the rest of our travelling party. It is not wise to travel before the storm passes over. And we will need to find out the circumstances that brought you back."

"You don't have to explain Caspian; we don't expect any more wonders." Lucy smiled serenely at him, as a maid entered the tent, loaded with garments.

He smiled at her and then left quickly, taking care to close the flap properly.

"Unbelievable that he kept these things around!"

Susan could only nod in agreement, as she watched the entrance from which he had just disappeared.

The maid proved to be efficient, as she quickly helped both girls out of their wet dresses and into Narnian garments, all the while eyeing their modern underwear curiously. Susan couldn't even begin to imagine what the woman must be thinking, but there was little point to dwell on it.

Caspian must have taken great care with choosing the dresses in this trunk. They were very similar to what Lucy and Susan had been wearing the last time they were here together, and also to the fashion in the Golden Age. Susan truly felt like she was becoming herself again, as she regarded herself in the beautiful silver-blue silk dress, adorned with lace and shimmering layers on the hem and cleavage.

This was surreal.

Just hours ago, while getting out of bed, she had struggled with the idea to face London, secretly wishing for the leaves to be greener, the people to be politer, for the animals to talk and laugh and for her outfit to include her bow and arrow, and now they were all in ultimate reaching distance.

And Caspian...

Susan smiled; for the first time in months, it even reached her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Gentle and The Telmarine_

 _Chapter Three_

* * *

 _Here you go people, chapter three at long last! Thank you very much for the lovely Reviews and Follows and Favourites!_

 _love,_

 _Lily_

* * *

Watching his brothers in arms shedding their curious garments and putting on something a little more worthy of Kings, was something Caspian had not expected to be doing on this day. But here he was, trying to remember what he had looked like at the age Peter was in now, realising that it was obvious that he had surpassed the High King of Old in both age and stature; which, of course, wasn't overly significant. King Peter had shown them all the last time around, how little age mattered when it came to fighting; and that Queen Susan was most probably still a better archer than him, was proof enough that size didn't matter either.

Queen Susan...

Caspian sighed.

Not one single moment of hope in the past bloody decade had prepared him for her _actually_ returning. How was one expected to react, anyway? Waking up to an empty bed, after her lovely features had haunted his dreams, was bad enough; her and her family's unexplained reappearing and possible future _dis_ appearing, seemed only cruel.

And what did _she_ think? She looked almost exactly how he remembered her, which was of course natural, since apparently no time at all had passed between her leaving and returning.

Well, he thought to himself, minus that dress.

The view of her legs flashed in his mind, and Caspian had difficulties not to raise his sword in irrational jealousy to every single pair of eyes that he knew, had touched the bare skin of Susan's creamy legs; the raindrops clinging to them and reflecting the light of the fire, while simultaneously making the fabric of the flimsy material almost see through.

It was _not_ something, the High King of Narnia was used to feeling, and his groan drew the attention of the boys in front of him.

"Are you alright?"

Edmund glanced him over curiously, but Peter had a knowing look in his eyes. Eustace was still trying to get his shirt right on.

"Yes, I...yes. Thank you." Caspian cleared his throat.

Aleko, who was standing next to Caspian, lifted an eyebrow, hinted at an amused smile, and then left the premises by striding out of the tent, mumbling something about his dog and its bitch.

Caspian wanted to throw something at him. But seeing even Mika sympathetic, he stopped. Those men had been with him for years, and Caspian had always suspected that they knew about the King's continued feelings for the Queen of Old. Although, after the kiss on the day she had left, the whole kingdom probably knew.

And now she was back, and the only thing he had done was give her a damned towel.

Well, that just wouldn't do.

Caspian groaned again, this time in exasperation at himself.

* * *

After they were dressed and had each received a thick cloak in their respective colours, the women made their way back to the largest tent.

As Susan approached the cluster of men standing around the big, wooden trunk, Caspian reached into the depths of it and procured her glorious bow and arrows, perfectly maintained.

"I have some of my best men look after them," he explained, as Peter and Edmund were already examining their own swords. "Sharp as ever and ready to be used."

When Susan took the bow out of his hand, she felt his fingers brush hers in a deliberate manner. Looking up, a shiver ran down her spine when she saw him tenderly smiling down at her. The corners of her mouth lifted, and a calming breath left her body. He still had the most handsome smile. It looked a little rougher than before, but the beard made him only more attractive.

"Thank you." Susan's voice sounded breathy, even to her own ears, and blushing, she quickly concentrated on weighing the bow in her hand, while Caspian took a step back to give Lucy her flask and knife.

Lucy hadn't so much as grabbed them, when sudden shouts interrupted their reacquainting with their weapons, trumpets sounding mere seconds later.

They all tensed at once, listening to the tones that announced immediate danger; except for Eustace, everyone was familiar with the codes of Narnian warfare.

"What is going on?"

Not receiving an answer, Susan watched as every armed man in the tent went into a frenzy and Peter and Caspian simultaneously rushed to the tent entrance. Flapping it open on each side, the clinching sound of metal reached their ears, upon which both men drew their swords, prompting Susan to hold her bow tighter. Out of experience, she would recognize the sound of swordfights like a lullaby sung to a child.

"ATTACK!"

Taking a deep breath, Susan exchanged a glance with her sister before storming outside, where they were met with the view of dozens of men emerging between the trees, engaging the surprised Narnians and Telmarine into fight. Some were on horses, some on foot, but all with drawn swords. Caspian's warriors were already holding them back from the tents, but it seemed like they were outnumbered.

"My King!" Glenstorm came careering through the fighting and stopped in front of them. "Calormen! They are attacking our camp! The hawk hasn't...we don't know where he is."

A missing hawk usually meant the worst, which Caspian seemed to know as well. The best way to wound Narnians was to take out their unique advantages.

Caspian looked around, assessing the situation quickly. "We need to leave. We don't have enough warriors with us, and too many civilians in our ranks, their safety comes first. Where is Aleko?"

Pride overcame Susan as she watched Caspian charge into the middle of his fighters, giving out orders and blocking attacks left and right. She could even see the approval in Peter's eyes as he nodded in acceptance of his leadership. Caspian X had become a great King in their absence; he had grown into his destiny.

"...horses in formation; if anyone gets separated, we will meet in five days time at the Willow Wall in Archenland. GO!"

The orders went through their ranks, and Susan lifted her bow as if she hadn't been doing anything else since going to war against the White Witch.

The rain had stopped sometime during their changing of clothes, making it easier for everyone to fight.

Susan had _missed_ being in a fight. She would have preferred peaceful coexistence, but she was a warrior when needed, one who had seen worse in her time. Even after the long winter in Narnia and the White Witch's death, they had had to fight occasionally. She knew what to do. One after the other, her arrows hit their targets and Susan didn't focus on anything but to protect her people.

Only as the sounds of hooves reached the campsite from behind them, she looked up. Lucy was standing close to her, shielding and helping the scared servants, who were frantically trying to gather as many important things as possible. Eustace must have been given a different task, seeing as he weaselled his way around the fighting with a dark leather pouch, doing his best to protect it from spilling. The horses, which were apparently held a little outside of camp, were brought in and in practised movements, the Narnians and Telmarine leapt onto them.

Susan kept stalling the Calormene as the riders of the horses collected the civilians. There was no way they would be able to escape with the carriages, so they had to leave almost everything behind.

Relieved, she saw Peter grabbing Lucy, and Edmund had Eustace hoisted up behind him; everyone clearly splitting in pairs. Caspian must have been prepared for a situation like this. Pulling her from her thoughts of her siblings and the civilians, Glenstorm suddenly leapt in front of her, blocking an opponent's blow, which had gotten too close without her noticing.

"SUSAN!"

Susan barely managed to swallow a surprised scream, as someone suddenly grabbed her arm and she instinctively climbed behind a furious Caspian on his brown stallion.

"NOW!" he yelled into the clearing, before giving her a scowl, assumedly for her brief carelessness.

But she didn't have time to feel overly peeved, as she was watching Edmund gallop to the tree line, where Eustace clumsily bent over to light a previously prepared line of gunpowder, which immediately took effect. It built a huge wall of fire to hold up the Calormene, spreading onto the trees between them.

Brilliant.

Making sure, that no one was left behind, Peter and Caspian rounded the campsite before following their withdrawing comrades deeper into the forest, backed up by Glenstorm.

"Hold on!"

One hand clutching the bow, Susan made sure to wrap the other arm around his midriff tightly. Adrenaline rushed through her and heightened her senses as they followed the retreating Narnians, which may have been the only reason she saw the arrow coming from her right. She quickly snapped back her head while pushing Caspian away from her and it flew through, right between them.

Caspian swore into his beard, making a sharp turn and losing sight of Peter.

Before Susan could further react, another arrow barely missed them, and Caspian had to avert a third by abruptly changing their direction, completely cutting them off.

"CASPIAN!"

Glenstorm, who had been close to them, was quick to attack one of their followers, but with Caspian's apparent efforts to dispel the others' trail, Susan had trouble keeping her eyes on him.

"OVER THERE!"

Caspian swore again, as he felt her shift her weight to raise her bow and arrows. He turned around to horizontally near the men Glenstorm was fighting with his sword, appearing yet unharmed. Susan aimed and let two arrows go at once, hitting one of the men in the chest and another in the stomach, distracting a third enough for Glenstorm to take him out with a blow to the head.

Before they could catch their breath, more voices rang out from behind the trees.

"Follow the coastline and lead them through the holes until you lose them, they won't be able to keep up with you there," Caspian ordered. "Then meet the others in the desert. Aleko will lead them on the direct route to the Willow Wall."

The Willow Wall was a construct of willow trees, made out of stone, once upon a time a glorious sign of power and love of a king for his wife, who had been called Willow. In the Golden Age, it had become the half-way mark between Cair Paravel and the castle-town of the King of Archenland; a flourishing city of trade.

"What about you and the Queen, my King?"

Susan swallowed down the gasp at being addressed this way, almost as if she was _his_ queen and he _her_ king. Caspian had seemed to tense under her grasp as well, but this was really not the time to dwell on such thoughts.

"We...will take the scenic route."

The scenic route? Susan had no idea what Caspian meant by that, but it seemed that Glenstorm did, because he nodded, before giving out a war cry and galloping away from them.

Caspian did the same, making the Calormene split in two groups, keen to follow.

"Where are we going?"

Caspian sped up, putting increasingly more distance between them and the Calormene. "Away."

* * *

It took quite a while and a few very skilled manoeuvres, until Susan could look back and see no signs of anyone following. She had no idea how Caspian or his horse kept up this pace, but she could feel the long ride taking its toll on her muscles. She used to be able to ride all day long, back in the day, but her current body was unused to such performances. They had forgone all and any proper meals, nibbling on apples and only stopping once by a creek to drink, so it was no wonder that Susan felt weaker by the minute. She hated it.

As the sun began to disappear behind the mountains, even Caspian seemed to show signs of losing his energy, though. Nevertheless, he didn't lessen their speed well over nightfall. Only as the forest grew lighter and the air thinner, the King allowed his poor horse to fall into a light trot and effectively slow down.

"Well done, Wendell," Caspian petted his stallion's neck, and the Narnian horse breathed heavily.

"They couldn't follow well through the trees, Sire."

"Why were they following us anyhow?" Susan poked the man before her in the back. "I assume we are out of danger for now; so would you _please_ tell me what is going on?"

Caspian let a sigh escape. "They were after me; I hope your siblings could lead our people away in time."

That was as satisfactory an answer as his ' _away_ ' had been, that morning. "Why on earth were they after you? I thought Narnia was in peace."

"We are, but..."

His voice faded as they finally left the trees behind and stepped into an open field, only illuminated by the moonlight. Momentarily forgetting what they were talking about, Susan took in the beauty of the land. Valleys and hills were leading the way down from the high mountains they had passed, a creek running by every now and then, some stone fences showing signs of human presence somewhere in the vicinity. It all reminded Susan a bit of a week spent in Northumberland when she was younger; she also remembered thinking the exact same thing years ago, when first crossing the Narnian borders into the south.

"Have we managed to cross the border to Archenland?" she asked Caspian through chattering teeth. Being so high caused a significant drop in temperature; while they had escaped the rain hours ago, and their clothes were more or less dry again, there was only so much warmth drying clothing could provide, with the lack of trees now giving way to the haunting wind.

Immediately Caspian's head snapped around and he looked her worriedly over. "Yes, while the others went straight north through the desert, we are taking the way over the mountains to meet them at the Willow Wall." Seeing her concerned look, he smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, we had plans for such an occasion, and Aleko will brief your brothers and sister. They should be fine."

She had no idea who Aleko was, but nodded.

"We need a place to stay, Caspian, the wind is picking up."

The King nodded, pressing poor Wendell on. "There must be something for cover here."

"Do you even know where exactly we are?"

Caspian took out his compass, holding it out for her to see. "We went west for the most part and are now moving north, basically skirting around the desert. If my estimations are correct, the mountains over there," he pointed to the east, where very high mountaintops were covered in snow, "build the north-west point to the Calormene desert, which must mean that we are a little over the border to Archenland."

Susan bit her lip. "If I remember correctly, there was a small village of archers in this region; the King of Archenland sent me a beautiful set of golden arrows for my birthday once, which the village is famous for. I don't think we could make it there tonight, though. It wasn't this much of a barren region."

Caspian looked over his shoulder to her. "The King of Archenland in the Golden Age...wasn't he a suitor for your hand?"

Susan's mouth curled upwards. "Yes, well, I never put much thought into political marriages."

Caspian made a noncommittal Sound, riding on.


End file.
